Of Heroes and Apple Juice
by MidnightGoddess2112
Summary: We never stop learning, not even after we die. Sorry for any OOCness!


The tavern was small, dim, and dusty, with only a few tables, a long-neglected bar, and no occupants except a teenage boy slumped over at a corner table, gazing mournfully at his apple juice.  
Augustus Waters sighed. If you'd asked him before what he thought the afterlife would be like, he didn't know how he would've responded, but it wouldn't have included abandoned taverns and apple juice instead of champagne. On the bright side, he had two legs again, and plenty of cigarettes, but it wasn't as much fun without Hazel and Isaac. And champagne. He pulled out a fresh cigarette and stuck it in his mouth.

The floorboards creaked. Augustus looked up, startled. He hadn't known anyone else even knew about this place, much less came here. A man stood next to his table, glass of apple juice in hand. "Mind if I join you?"  
Gus shook his head. The man sat down across from him and looked at him curiously, as though Gus were an interesting new puzzle to solve. Dark hair fell to his shoulders, and there was something in his face that reminded Gus of his father, but also, oddly, of Isaac. How strange.

"I'm Augustus Waters," Gus said slowly. "But you can call me Gus. I'm a recent arrival."  
The newcomer sipped his juice. "The name's Brutus, Marcus Brutus. Why so down, Mr. Waters?"  
"I miss my girlfriend Hazel," Augustus mumbled, "and my best friend Isaac."  
"You'll see them again soon," Brutus said kindly.  
Augustus brightened up a little. "That's true. Hazel won't have those tubes in her nose anymore, and Isaac will see again. That'll be nice."  
"I'm sure it will be. But they're not the only reason you're upset, are they?"  
"How did you know?"  
Brutus smiled, but it was slightly mocking. "I know more about you than you think, Augustus. Now take that ridiculous cigarette out of your mouth and tell me."

Reluctantly, Augustus obeyed. "It's like this. Hazel was obsessed with Peter van Houten, the author of her favorite book. She talked about his book all the time, and she idolized him. He turned out to be a jerk, but that's beside the point. I'm upset that I never got the chance to be idolized like that. I wanted to at least die heroically, if not do something heroic. But neither one happened. Cancer got me. It's like I told Hazel: there is no honor in dying _of_."  
"There's no honor in killing yourself, either," Brutus retorted. "But that's what I did."  
"I didn't mean-"  
"I know exactly what you meant. Go on."

"I wanted to be a hero," Gus muttered. "I wanted to make sure I'd be remembered long after my death. I'd wanted it for years, long before I even met Hazel. But I never got my wish." He moaned and dropped his head miserably.  
An impulse to laugh seized Brutus, but he resisted it and instead said gently, "I understand. I wanted to be a hero, too."

Augustus looked up. "You did?"  
"That's right." Brutus leaned over the table, closer to him. "I wanted to be a hero, and it led to me making the biggest mistake of my life. Not letting myself be used and manipulated into killing someone close to me, mind you, but letting his right-hand man speak at his funeral, which resulted in a war and lots of people dying. And when I look back, that is the only thing I regret. So be careful what you wish for, Augustus."  
Augustus couldn't speak. Brutus kept going. "I don't understand your obsession with remembrance, either. The only thing you need to do to validate your life is to live. It doesn't matter if you're remembered. You're no less special than anyone else, even people who _have_ done heroic things."  
"I'm not?"  
"Of course not! Weren't you listening? You don't need to play the white knight to boost your self-esteem, you just need to love and be loved. It's that simple."  
Gus's brow furrowed, then he nodded. "I guess you're right." He suddenly cheered up. "I loved Hazel, and she loved me. We're good." Gus took a celebratory swig and leaned back, pleased.

Brutus settled back in his chair, watching the boy with a sly smile. Then, casually, he reached over and slapped Augustus across the face.  
"_Ow!_" Gus yelped. "What was that for?"  
"Channeled my best friend there for a second," Brutus replied. Then he burst out laughing, adding insult to injury. Gus watched him, confused and hurt. "What's so funny?" He had to wait several minutes for a reply.  
"You loved _Hazel_," Brutus finally managed. "Sure you did. You loved her so much that you were willing to _risk her life_ just so you could get laid. You wouldn't have looked at her twice if she didn't look like Caroline, which would be understandable if I believed you ever gave a shit about that poor girl. When was the last time you cared about anyone but yourself, Augustus? Who did you think of that loved you? Your parents? Your sisters? Your best friend? No, your _girlfriend_, who didn't have any more feelings for you than you had for her. The only reason she gave you the time of day was because she liked your looks. That's not love, it's lust. There's a difference."

"That's not true," Augustus said weakly.  
"No? Why not?" Augustus didn't reply. "Exactly. Which brings me to my next point. This?" Brutus picked up Augustus's cigarette pack and waved it in his face. "Stupidest thing I've ever seen. First of all, it's wasteful. Second, you're helping the tobacco industry by giving them money, which means you're still giving the killing things the power to do their killing, even if you're not the one they're killing. Third, it makes no sense. Fourth, I cannot believe you were callous enough to do it in front of a girl on oxygen. You're just lucky she was impressed by it. I repeat: you and Hazel never loved each other. Your entire 'relationship' consisted of impressing each other with your hotness and superior pretentious hipsterosity and likewise stroking each other's egos. Love only happens after you get to know the other person, which, granted, you and Hazel had time to do, but you were both too wrapped up in yourselves to bother. Truly, I wouldn't wish you on anyone else."  
"Don't talk about her that way!"  
"Why shouldn't I? She's no better than you are."

Augustus looked up angrily, eyes flashing. "What _is_ love, then? Since you seem to know so much about it."  
"Love is putting the other person first and looking past their flaws to see the good in them. Trust and forgiveness, too - those play huge parts."  
Augustus nodded. "Okay." His lower lip trembled. Brutus tensed - had he been too harsh? But the moment passed, and they both calmed down.

"Too bad about the champagne," Gus said finally.  
"What champagne?"  
"The champagne I had at Oranjee. And on the plane. And in the hospital. I miss it."  
Brutus laughed again.  
"What's so funny _now?_"  
"Did you _really_ think that restaurant and that flight attendant would have given two underage minors champagne? Or that a doctor would have given a cancer patient champagne? Sparkling apple juice, Gus. That's all it was. Not too different from what we're having now, actually."  
"Oh."  
"I'll say."

They drank their juice in silence. Then Augustus spoke up. "It wasn't my fault, you know, having cancer."  
"True."  
"Sometimes life is just mean that way, throwing things at you that you don't deserve."  
"Also true."  
"It's all okay, though."  
"It is? How so?"  
"Death is inevitable. We are all mere playthings in this universe's eyes, to create and throw away at will. We are pieces of paper floating on the great sea of consciousness, at the mercy of the tides of fate until we eventually sink and are no more. But even the universe is not eternal, and one day it too will come to an end, and there will be nothing left but oblivion."  
"I fail to see how any of this is comforting."  
"You would. Permit me to explain. The universe made us, yes, but it couldn't care less about us. Fate and time oversee our lives, and they are cold but fair. It is not for us to question their judgement, but to go with the flow, as they say, and at the end run into the waiting arms of death." Augustus paused, then added, "I regret not telling everyone not to mourn me, for fate had decreed it my time and the universe would one day eradicate them, too, so they had no real reason to grieve."

"So what you're saying," Brutus said slowly, "is that no matter how much crap we have to take in our lives, like the death of a loved one, we shouldn't do anything about it, it was meant to be, and we're all going to be dead someday anyway, so it doesn't matter?"  
Augustus frowned at his speech being put into plain language, but nodded. "Basically, yes."  
"Fuck you."  
"What?" Augustus wasn't sure he'd heard that right.  
"I said, fuck you!" Brutus stood up abruptly, nearly spilling his juice. In his mind's eye, he could still see Cassius's lifeless body as clearly as if it had been yesterday. Time had done nothing to dull the pain of the memory. "Try losing the two people you love most in the world, and _then_ say that."  
"I didn't know...I'm sorry..."

Brutus sat back down with a heavy sigh. "Don't be. You couldn't have known. But you've clearly never thought about how much your family and friends might be missing you right now. You're one of the most insensitive, narcissistic people I've ever had the misfortune to meet. I'm not saying this to be mean, but because it is the truth." He shook his head. "I was fully prepared for an outrageous conversation when I walked in here, but I never dreamed it would be _this_ outrageous."

"So...your coming here wasn't a coincidence?"  
"Certainly not. We all get what we deserve one way or another, Augustus. I got what I deserved before I died, but you never did. So I decided to take matters into my own hands. You see, I don't believe in fate. I believe that we control our own lives. The fault isn't always in our stars, no matter what Peter thinks. To think I was actually looking forward to this."

Gus seemed at a loss for words. Brutus was pleased - someone had finally managed to shut Augustus Waters up. "I'm almost done here. One or two more things before I go, though. Making out at a Holocaust memorial? Not cool, never okay, probably against the rules, and _incredibly_ disrespectful. What were you _thinking?_ What were those other visitors thinking, _clapping_ for you? Truly, Augustus Waters, you and Hazel Lancaster never cease to amaze me. Not in a good way, though. The notion that you're better and specialer than everyone else just because you have cancer is utter bullshit. So is all the so-called 'witty,' 'intellectual,' and 'deep' stuff that comes out of both your mouths. Maybe you _were_ destined to be together, after all - she's a pretentious, judgmental bitch and you're a pretentious, manipulative bastard. I'll have you know that the only pretentious, manipulative, and judgmental people I tolerate are repentant ones." Gus still didn't reply.

Brutus stood up again. "That's why I want you to remember my words, Augustus. Remember them, and think on them. Think hard. I hold out very little hope that you'll one day change your pretentious ways, but anything's possible, right? Farewell, Mr. Waters. If I ever see you again, you better not be carrying around those cigarettes, at least." He strolled out of the tavern, leaving behind a stunned Augustus Waters.

Brutus chuckled to himself. That had felt good. If he ever ran across Caroline Mathers, he'd have quite the story to tell her. A bird soared overhead, and Brutus's heart leaped to meet it. His conscience wasn't one bit burdened. All was well.


End file.
